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others, knocking them to the ground, wounded or dead. With measured
efficiency, Cara snatched them out of the air and swiftly wrung their necks.
Everywhere, men stabbed, cut, and hacked at the onslaught of fierce
raptors. Some men used their torches as weapons. The night was filled with
the screams of the birds, with the flapping of wings, with the thud of
weapons striking home. Birds tumbled and fell as they were hit. More dove in
to take their place. The trees all around poured the monstrous birds down on
them. Wounded and dying birds struggling on the ground made the forest floor
a writhing sea of black feathers.
The ferocity of the attack was frightening.
And then, it was suddenly over.
A few of the birds on the ground, wings spread, still tried to get up,
their feathers making a silken rasp as they rubbed against the feathers of
dead birds beneath them. Here and there men stabbed or chopped at a bird
still alive on the ground at their feet. It wasn't long before all the
creatures finally went still. No more races came from the sky.
Dead races mounded up against Richard like snow drifted in a storm.
Men panted as they held torches aloft. They peered into the darkness
beyond the light, looking for any sign of more trouble from above. But for
the hissing of the torches, the night was silent. The branches of the trees
all around appeared to be empty.
Kahlan could see scratches and cuts on Richard's arms and hands. She
waded through the sea of dead birds to get to his pack sitting on a near by
rock. The forest floor around him was nearly knee-deep with dead races. She
had to flip a dead bird off Richard's pack. Pushing her hand down into his
pack, she blindly searched until her fingers found a folded waxed paper that
contained a salve.
Cara rushed in close to Richard when she saw him unsteady on his feet.
She grasped his arm, lending him support.
"What in the world was that all about?" Jennsen asked, panting, still
catching her breath as she pulled strands of red ringlets off her sweaty
face.
"I guess they finally decided to try to get us," Owen said.
Jennsen patted Betty's head when the goat stepped unhurt through the
corpses of races to get in closer to her friends. "One thing for sure is
that they finally found us again."
"There was an important difference this time," Richard said. "They
weren't following us. They were here, waiting for us."
Everyone stared at him.
"What do you mean?" Kahlan paused at daubing salve on his cuts.
"They've followed us before. They must have seen us."
Betty moved in closer, leaning against Kahlan's leg to stand and watch
her and Richard talking. Kahlan wasn't in the mood to be scratching the
goat's ears, so she pushed her out of the way.
Richard laid a hand on Cara's shoulder to steady himself. Kahlan
noticed how he swayed on his feet. At times he was having difficulty
standing.
"No. They haven't been following us. The skies have been empty."
Richard gestured to the dead birds all around him. "These races weren't
following us. They were waiting for us. They knew we were coming here. They
lay in wait."
That was a chilling thought--if it was true.
Kahlan straightened, holding the waxed paper in one hand; a finger of
her other hand, loaded with salve, waiting. "How could they possibly know
where we were going?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Richard said.
Nicholas glided back into his body, his mouth still opened wide in a
yawn that was not a yawn. He stretched his neck to one side and then the
other. He smiled with his delight in the game. It had been dazzling. It had
been delicious. His widening grin bared his teeth.
Nicholas staggered to his feet, wavering unsteadily for a moment. It
reminded him of the way Richard Rahl swayed on his feet, dizzy with the
effects of a poison that was inexorably doing its deadly work.
Poor Richard Rahl needed the last dose of the antidote.
Nicholas opened his mouth again in a yawn that was not a yawn, twisting
his head, eager to be away, eager to learn more. He would return soon
enough. He would watch them. Watch them as they worried, as they struggled
in vain to understand what was happening, watch them as they approached.
They would reach him in mere hours.
The fun was truly about to begin.
Nicholas wound his way across the room, stepping between the bodies
sprawled everywhere. They had all died suddenly when the races were killed.
Here and there the dead were stacked in piles atop one another, the way the
races in those dark woods had been heaped around Richard Rahl.
Such violent deaths. Those spirits had been horrified as they were
slaughtered, but there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Nicholas had controlled their souls, their fate. Now they were beyond
his control; they now belonged to the Keeper of the dead.
Nicholas ran his fingernails back through his hair, shivering with
delight as he felt the slick oils glide through his fingers and against his
palm.
He had to drag three bodies aside before he could get at the door. He
threw the heavy latch over and opened the thick door.
"Najari!"
The man stood not far away, leaning against the wall, waiting. His
muscular form straightened.
"What is it?"
Nicholas opened his arm back in graceful indication, his fingers tipped
with black nails stretching wide. "There is a mess in here that needs to be
cleaned up. Get some men and have these bodies taken away."
Najari stepped to the door and stretched his neck to peer into the
room.
"The whole crowd we brought in?"
"Yes." Nicholas snapped. "I needed them all, and some more I had the
soldiers fetch for me. I'm done with them all, now. Get rid of them."
When the races had attacked, each had been driven by the soul of one of
these ungifted people, and each of those souls had been driven by Nicholas.
It had been a stupendous achievement--the simultaneous command of so many
with such precision and coordination. When the races had been killed,
though, so, too, died the bodies back in the room with Nicholas.
He supposed that one day he really should learn how to call back such
spirits when their hosts died. It would save him from having to get new ones
each time. But people were plentiful. Besides, if he were to find a way to
call them back, then he would have to mind the people once their spirits
returned, after they had learned his use of them.
Still, it was annoying when Richard Rahl killed those Nicholas used to
help him watch.
"How much longer?" Najari asked.
Nicholas smiled, knowing what the man was curious about. "Soon. Very
soon. You must get these people out of here before they arrive. Then, keep
our men out of the way. Let them do as they will."
Najari flashed a cunning smile. "As you wish, Nicholas."
Nicholas lifted an eyebrow. "Emperor Nicholas."
Najari chuckled as he started away to get his men. "Emperor Nicholas."
"You know, Najari, I've been thinking."
Najari turned back. "About what?"
"About Jagang. We've worked so hard. What reason is there for me to bow
to him? A legion of my silent army could swoop in upon him and that would be
that. I wouldn't even need an army. He could mount his horse one day, and I
could be there in the beast, waiting to throw him and trample him to death."
Najari rubbed his stubble. "True enough."
"Of what use is Jagang, really? I could just as easily rule the
Imperial Order. In fact, I would be better suited to it."
Najari cocked his head. "Then what of the plans we've already laid?"
Nicholas shrugged. "Why change them? But why should I give the Mother
Confessor to Jagang? And why let him have the world? Perhaps I will keep her
for my own amusement... and have the world as well."
Richard pressed his back up against the clapboard wall. He had to pause
a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning. He was so cold he felt
numb. As dark as it was, he was having difficulty seeing.
But it was more than the darkness.
He knew that his sight was beginning to fail him.
At night it was worse. He had always been able to see better at night
than most other people. Now, he was no better able to see at night than
Kahlan. That wasn't a big difference, but he knew it was meaningful.
The third state of the poison had begun.
Fortunately, they were close to having the final dose.
"This is the alleyway, here," Owen whispered.
Richard looked up and down the street. He didn't see anything moving.
The city of Hawton was asleep. He wished he could be, too. He was so
exhausted and dizzy he could hardly put one foot in front of the other. He
had to take shallow breaths to keep from coughing. Coughing brought on the
worst pain. At least he wasn't coughing up blood.
Coughing now, though, could be fatal, so he swallowed, trying to stifle
the urge. If they made any noise, it might alert the soldiers.
When Owen moved into the alleyway, Richard, Kahlan, Cara, Jenn-sen,
Tom, Anson, and a handful of their men followed in single file.
There had been no lights burning in the windows facing the streets. As
the small group moved through the alley close to the walls, Richard saw no
windows. A few of the walls did have doors.
At a narrow space between buildings, Owen turned in, following the
brick path hardly wider than Richard's shoulders.
Richard seized Owen by the arm. "Is this the only way in?"
"No. See there? The walkway goes through to the street in front, and
there is another door inside that comes up on the other side of the
building."
Satisfied that they had alternative escape routes, Richard gave Owen a
nod. They took the dark stairwell down to a room at the bottom under the
building. Tom struck flint to steel a number of times until he managed to
light a candle.
Once the candle was lit, Richard gazed around at the small, empty,
windowless room. "What is this place?"
"The basement of a palace," Owen said.
Richard frowned at the man. "What are we doing here?"
Owen hesitated and glanced at Kahlan.
Kahlan saw the look. She pushed Richard down until he sat and leaned
back against the wall. A footsore Betty squeezed between them and lay down
beside Richard, pleased to have a rest. Jennsen squatted close, on the other
side of Betty. Cara closed him in from the other side.
Kahlan knelt in front of him and then sat back on her heels. "Richard,
I asked Owen to bring us here--to a place where we would be safe. We can't
all go into that building to get the antidote."
"I suppose not. That's a good idea. Owen and I will go; the rest of you
can stay here where no one will spot you."
He started to get up, but Kahlan pushed him back down. "Richard, you
have to wait here. You can't go. You're dizzy. You need to save your
strength."
Richard gazed into her green eyes, eyes that always captivated him,
always made everything else but her seem unimportant. He wished they could
be alone somewhere peaceful, like the home he had built for her back in the
mountains where he had taken her to recover after she had been hurt... when
she had lost their unborn child after being beaten nearly to death by those
brutes.
She was the most precious thing alive. She was everything. He wanted so
much for her to be safe.
"I'm strong enough," he said. "I'll be fine."
"If you start coughing in that place where the soldiers are, then
you'll be caught and never get out--much less recover the antidote. You and
Owen would both be caught. There is no telling how many soldiers are in
there. What will happen to us if you're caught? What would happen if. .."
Her voice trailed off. She hooked a stray strand of hair behind an ear.
"Look, Richard, Owen went in there before; he can go in there again."
Richard saw desperation in her eyes. She was terrified of losing him.
He hated that he was making her afraid.
"That's right, Lord Rahl," Owen assured him. "I will get the antidote
and bring it to you."
"While we're waiting, you can get some rest," Kahlan said. "Some sleep
would do you more good than anything else until they bring back the
antidote."
Richard couldn't debate how tired he was. He still didn't like the idea
of not going himself.
"Tom could go with him," Cara suggested.
Richard looked up into Cara's blue eyes. He looked up into Kahlan's
eyes. He knew he had already lost this argument.
"How far is this place?" Richard asked Owen.
"A goodly distance. Here, we are just at the fringe of the city. I
wanted to take us to a place where we would be less likely to encounter
soldiers. The antidote is at most an hour distant. I thought it best if we
were not too far into the city if we had to get back out, but we are close
enough so that you will not have long to wait for the antidote."
Richard nodded. "All right. We'll wait here for you and Tom."
Kahlan paced in the small, damp basement as the others sat against the
wall, waiting in silence. She couldn't stand the tension. It felt too much
like a deathwatch.
They were so close that it made it seem impossibly far. They had waited
so long that the small amount of time left seemed an eternity that would
never end. Kahlan told herself to calm down. Shortly, Richard would have the
antidote. He would be better, then. He would be cured of the poison, then.
But what if it didn't work? What if he had already waited so long that
he was beyond any cure? No, the man who had made the poison and the antidote
had told Owen that this last dose would cure Richard of the poison for good.
Because of the beliefs of these people, they would be certain that the
poison was reversible. They would never have used it if they believed it
would risk a life.
But what if what they believed was wrong?
Kahlan rubbed her shoulders as she paced, and admonished herself to
stop inventing problems to worry about. They had enough real problems
without letting her imagination get carried away. They would get the
antidote and then they would address the problem with Richard's gift. After
that, they had to turn their attention to larger issues of Jagang and his
army.
When Kahlan glanced over and saw that Richard had fallen sound asleep,
she decided to go outside and watch for Owen and Tom. Cara, leaning against
the wall beside Richard, guarding him while he slept, nodded when Kahlan
whispered to her, telling her where she was going. Jennsen, seeing that
Kahlan was heading for the door, quietly followed her out. Betty had fallen
asleep beside Richard, so Jennsen left her there.
The moonlit night had cooled. Kahlan thought she should be sleepy, but
she was wide awake. She followed the brick path out between the buildings
toward the alley.
"Owen will be back soon," Jennsen said. "Try not to worry. It will be
over, soon."
Kahlan glanced over in the dark. "Even after he has the antidote, we
still have his gift to worry about. Zedd is too far. We're going to have to
get to Nicci right away. She is the only one close enough that might know
what to do to help him."
"Do you think the trouble with his gift is getting worse?"
Kahlan was haunted by the pain she so often saw in his eyes. But there
was more to it.
"When he used the sword the last two times I could see that even the
sword's magic had failed him. He's in more trouble with his gift than he
will admit."
Jennsen chewed her lower lip as she watched Kahlan pace. "Tonight he
will have the antidote," she finally said in soft assurance. "Soon, we can
be on our way to Nicci."
Kahlan turned when she thought she heard a noise in the distance. It
had sounded like the crunch of a footstep. Two dark figures appeared off at
the end of the alleyway. By the way one of them towered over the other,
Kahlan was pretty sure that it was Tom and Owen. She wanted to run to meet
them, but she knew how deadly tricks could be, so she drew Jennsen back with
her around the corner of the building, into the darkest part of the shadows.
This was no time to get careless.
When the two men reached the narrow walkway and started to turn in.
Kahlan stepped out in front of them, prepared to unleash her power if
necessary.
"Mother Confessor--it's me, Tom, and Owen," Tom whispered.
Jennsen let out a breath. "Are we ever glad to see you back."
Owen looked both ways down the alley. When he turned to check, Kahlan
saw moonlight reflect off tears running down his face.
"Mother Confessor, we have trouble," Tom said.
Owen spread his hands. "Mother Confessor, I, I..."
Kahlan grabbed his shirt in both fists. "What's wrong? The antidote was
there, wasn't it? You have it, don't you?"
"No." Owen choked back his tears and pulled out a folded piece of
paper. "Instead of the bottle of antidote, I found this in its hiding
place."
Kahlan snatched it out of his hands. With trembling fingers, she
unfolded the paper. She turned as she held it close so she could read it in
the light of the moon.
/ have the antidote. I also hold by a thread the lives of the people of
Bandakar. I can end all their lives as easily as I can end the life of
Richard Rahl ./ will give over the antidote and the lives of all the people
in this empire in exchange for the Mother Confessor.
Bring the Mother Confessor to the bridge over the river one mile to the
east of where you are. In one hour, if I do not have the Mother Confessor, I
will pour the antidote in the river and then I will see to it that all the
people of this city die.
Signed, Emperor Nicholas
Kahlan, her heart racing out of control, started east.
Tom grabbed her arm and held her back. "Mother Confessor, I know what
it says."
Kahlan's hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Then you know why I have no
choice."
Jennsen put herself in front of Kahlan to stop her from starting out
once again. "What does the letter say?"
"Nicholas wants me in exchange for the antidote."
Jennsen put her hands against Kahlan's shoulders to stop her. "What?"
"That's what the letter says. Nicholas wants me in exchange for the
lives of everyone else in this empire and the antidote to save Richard's
life."
"The lives of everyone else ... but how could he carry out such a
threat?"
"Nicholas is a wizard. There are any number of deadly things available
to such a man. If nothing else, he could use wizard's fire and incinerate
the entire city."
"But his magic won't harm the people here--they're pristinely
un-gifted, the same as me."
"If he uses wizard's fire to set a building ablaze, like we did to
those soldiers sleeping back in Owen's town, it won't matter to the people
inside how the fire started. Once the buildings catch fire, then it's just
regular fire--fire that will kill anyone. If not that, Nicholas has soldiers
here. He could immediately start executing people. He could have thousands
beheaded in hardly any time at all. I can't even imagine what else he could
do, but he put this letter where the antidote was hidden, so I know he's not
bluffing."
Kahlan stepped around Jennsen and started out again. She couldn't make
herself stop trembling. She tried to slow her racing heart, but that didn't
work, either. Richard had to have the antidote. That was what mattered. She
focused her attention ahead as she marched swiftly up the dark street.
Tom paced along beside her, opposite Jennsen. "Mother Confessor, wait.
We have to think this out."
"I already have."
"We can take a force of men to the meeting place--take the antidote by
force."
Kahlan kept going. "From a wizard? I don't think so. Besides, if
Nicholas were to see such a force coming he would probably pour the antidote
in the river. Then what? We have to do as he demands. We have to get our
hands on the antidote, get it safely away from them."
"What makes you think that after Nicholas has you he won't then pour it
in the river?" Tom asked.
"We'll have to make the exchange in a way that best insures we get the
antidote. We aren't going to rely on his goodwill and honesty. Owen and
Jennsen are pristinely ungifted. They won't be harmed by his magic. They can
help make sure we get the antidote in the exchange."
Jennsen pulled her hair away from her face as she leaned close.
"Kahlan, you can't do this. You can't. Please, Richard will go crazy-- we
all will. Please, for his sake, don't do this."
"At least he will be alive to go crazy."
Tears streamed down Jennsen's face. "But this is suicide!"
Kahlan watched the buildings, the streets, making sure there were no
troops to hem them in. "Let's hope Nicholas thinks so, too." *
"Mother Confessor," Owen pleaded, "you can't do this. This is what Lord
Rahl has shown us is wrong. You can't bargain with a man like Nicholas. You
can't try to appease evil."
"I have no intention of appeasing Nicholas."
Jennsen wiped tears from her cheek. "What do you mean?"
Kahlan stiffened her resolve. "What is our best chance of getting rid
of the Imperial Order in this city--and all of Bandakar? Eliminating
Nicholas. How better to get close to him than to make him think he has won?"
Jennsen blinked in surprise. "You intend to touch him with your power.
That's what you're thinking, isn't it? You think you will have a chance to
touch him with your Confessor power."
"If I get him in my sight, he's dead."
"Richard would never agree to this," Jennsen said.
"I'm not asking him. This is my decision."
Tom stepped in front of her, blocking the way. "Mother Confessor, I'm
sworn to protect the Lord Rahl, and I understand risking your life to
protect him--but this is different. You may be acting to try to save his
life, but at what cost? We would lose too much. You can't do this."
Owen moved around in front of her, too. "I agree. Lord Rahl will be
more than crazy if you exchange yourself for the antidote."
Jennsen nodded her agreement. "He will kill us all. He will take off
our heads for allowing you to do this."
Kahlan smiled at their tense expressions. She put a hand to the side of
Jennsen's face.
"Remember back just after we'd met you, and I told you that there were
times when there was no choice but to act?"
Jennsen nodded, her tears returning.
"This is one of those times. Richard is getting sicker by the day. He's
dying. If he doesn't get the antidote, he has no chance and will soon be
dead. That's the truth of the way things are.
"How can we let this chance slip away from us? There are no more
opportunities after this. Our chances to save him will forever be lost. It
will be the end. I don't want to live without him. I don't want the rest of
our people to live without him.
"If I do this, then Richard will live. If Richard lives, then there
will still be a chance for me, too. I can touch Nicholas with my power, or
Richard and the rest of you can think of something to do to save me.
"But if Richard dies, then our chances end."
"But, Mother Confessor," Jennsen sobbed, "if you do this, then we'll
lose you...."
Kahlan looked to each face, her anger rising. "If any of you have a
better idea, then put words to it. Otherwise, you are risking me losing the
only chance left."
586
NAKED EMPIRE
No one had anything to say. Kahlan was the only one with a realistic
plan of action. The rest of them had only wishes. Wishing would not save
Richard.
Kahlan started out once again, hurrying her pace to get there in time.
Kahlan paused in the quiet darkness not far from the bridge. She could
just make out what appeared to be a burly man standing on the other side. He
was all alone. She couldn't see his face, or tell what he looked like. She
scanned the far bank of the river, along with the trees and buildings she
could make out in the moonlight, looking for soldiers, or anyone else.
Jennsen clutched her arm. "Kahlan... please." Her voice was choked with
tears.
Kahlan felt oddly calm. There were no options for her to weigh, so she
suffered no gnawing indecision; there was only one choice. Richard lived, or
he died. It was as simple as that. The choice was clear.
Her mind was made up, and with that came clarity and determination. She
could now focus on what she was to do.
The river through the city was larger than Kahlan had expected. The
steep banks to each side, in this area, anyway, were a few dozen feet high
and lined with stone blocks. The bridge itself, wide enough for wagons to
pass each other, had two arches to make the span and side rails with simple
stone caps. The waters below were dark and swift. It was not a river she
would want to have to try to swim.
Kahlan approached as far as the foot of the bridge and stopped. The man
on the other side watched her.
"Do you have the antidote?" she called over to him.
He lifted what looked like a little bottle high above his head. He
lowered the arm and pointed to the bridge. He wanted her to come across.
"Mother Confessor," Owen pleaded, "won't you reconsider?"
She gazed into his wet eyes. "Reconsider what? If I will have Richard
live rather than let him succumb to the poison? If I will try to kill
Nicholas in order to make it possible to defeat them and for your people to
have a better chance to free themselves? How would I ever live with myself
if Richard died without the antidote and I knew there was something I could
have done that would have saved him and also have given me a chance to get
close enough to Nicholas to eliminate him?
"I couldn't live with myself if I failed to do this.
"We are fighting this war to stop people like this, people who bring
death upon us, people who want us dead because they cannot stand that we
live our lives as we wish, that we are successful and happy. These people
hate life; they worship death. They demand that we do the same and join them
in their misery.
"As Mother Confessor, I decreed vengeance without mercy against the
Imperial Order. Changing from our course is suicide. I will not reconsider."
"What would you have us tell Lord Rahl?" Tom asked.
She smiled. "That I love him, but he knows that."
Kahlan unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to Jennsen. "Owen, come
with me."
Kahlan started out, but Jennsen threw her arms around her and hugged
her fiercely. "Don't worry," she whispered. "We'll get the antidote to
Richard, and then we'll come back for you."
Kahlan hugged Jennsen briefly, whispered her thanks, and then started
onto the bridge. Owen walked at her side, saying nothing.
The man on the far side watched, but stayed where he was.
In the center of the bridge, Kahlan stopped. "Bring the bottle," she
called across.
"Come over here and you can have it."
"If you want me, you will come to the center of the bridge and give the
bottle to this man to take back, as Nicholas offered."
The man stood for a time, as if considering. He looked like a soldier.
He didn't match the description of Nicholas that Owen had given her.
Finally, he started onto the arch of the bridge. Owen whispered that it
looked like the commander he had seen with Nicholas. Kahlan waited, watching
the man walk through the moonlight. He wore a knife at one side and a sword
at his other hip.
When he had almost reached her, he came to a halt and waited.
Kahlan held her hand out. "The note said we were to trade. Me for what
Nicholas has."
The man, his crooked nose flattened to the side, smiled. "So we were."
"I am the Mother Confessor. Either give me the bottle or you die here,
now."
He pulled the square-sided bottle from his pocket and placed it in her
hand. Kahlan saw that it was full of clear liquid. She pulled the cork and
smelled it. It had the slight aroma of cinnamon, as had the other bottles of
the antidote.
"He goes back with this," Kahlan said to the grim-looking man as she
handed Owen the bottle.
"And you come with me," the man said as he grabbed her wrist. "Or we
all die on this bridge. He may go, as agreed, but if you try to run you will
die."
Kahlan glanced to Owen. "Go," she growled.
Owen looked over at the man with black hair, then back to her. He
looked like he had a lot to say, but he nodded and then ran back over the
bridge to where Tom and Jennsen stood waiting, watching.
When Owen reached the other two, the man said, "Let's go, unless you'd
like to die here."
Kahlan yanked her arm back. When he turned and started out, she
followed behind him as they crossed the rest of the way over the bridge. She
scanned the shadows among the trees on the far side of the river, the
thousand hiding places among buildings beyond, the streets in the distance.
She didn't see anyone, but that didn't really make her feel any better.
Nicholas was there, somewhere, hiding in the darkness, waiting to have
her.
Suddenly, the night lit up from behind. Kahlan spun and saw the bridge
enveloped in a boiling ball of flame. The fire turned black as it billowed
up. Stones sailed into the air above the inferno. As the luminous cloud
rose, she could see the bridge beneath the roaring fireball crumpling. The
arches caved in on themselves and the entire structure began the long drop
into the river.
With icy dread, Kahlan wondered if there were any more bridges across
the river. How would she get back to Richard if she succeeded? How was help
going to get to her if she didn't?
On the far side, Kahlan could see Tom, Jennsen, and Owen running back
up the road toward where Richard slept. They were not about to waste time
watching a bridge being destroyed. At the thought of Richard, Kahlan almost
let out a sob.
The man unexpectedly shoved her. "Move."
She glared at him, at his self-satisfied smile, at the smug confidence
she saw in his eyes.
As she walked ahead of this man and he occasionally shoved her,
Kahlan's temper was on a low boil. She had the urge to use her power and
take out the despicable brute, but she had to concentrate on the task at
hand: Nicholas.
Walking up the street leading away from the river, she was just able to
make out soldiers hanging back in the shadows on the dark side streets,
blocking every escape route. It didn't matter. At the moment, she wasn't
interested in escape, but in her objective. The man behind her. as
arrogantly as he was behaving, was also wary and treated her with cautious
contempt.
The farther she walked into the city on the far side of the river, the
closer the clusters of small buildings were packed together. Side streets of
narrow twisting warrens ran off among the ramshackle structures. What trees
there were grew crowded in close to the street. Their branches hung out over
her like arms raised to snatch her in their claws. Kahlan tried not to think
about how deep she was getting into enemy territory, and how many men were
surrounding her.
The last time she had been surrounded and trapped by such savage men
she had been beaten and bad come perilously close to dying. Her unborn child
had died. Her child. Richard's child.
She had also lost a kind of innocence that day, a simplistic sense of
her invincibility. In its place had come the understanding of how frail life
was, how frail her own life was, and how easily it could be lost. She knew
how much it had hurt Richard to fear he might lose her. She remembered the
terrible agony in his eyes every time he had looked at her. It was
completely different from the pain she saw in his eyes from his gift. It had
been a helpless suffering for her. She hated the thought of that pain
returning to haunt him.
From the shadows to the right side, a man stepped out from behind a
building. He wore black robes, covered in layers of what looked like strips
of cloth, almost as if he were covered in black feathers. They lifted in the
breeze created by his stride, lending him an unsettling, floating fluidity
as he moved.
His hair was slicked back with oils that glistened in the moonlight.
Close-set, small black eyes rimmed in red peered out at her from an
altogether unwholesome face. He held his wrists to his chest, as if he were
holding back claws tipped with black fingernails.
Kahlan needed no introduction to know that this was Nicholas the Slide.
She had taken confessions from men who appeared to be no more than polite
young men, working fathers, or kindly grandfathers but in truth were men who
had carried out acts of ruthless cruelty. To look at them behind their bench
where they made shoes, or behind a counter where they sold bread, or in a
field tending their animals it would be difficult to believe them capable of
their vile crimes. But looking at Nicholas, Kahlan saw such utter corruption
that it tainted everything about the man, right down to the indecent squint
of his eyes.
"The prize of prizes," Nicholas hissed. He reached out, making a fist.
"And I have her."
Kahlan hardly heard him. She was already lost to the commitment of
wielding her power. This was the man who held the lives of innocent people
hostage. This was the man who brought suffering and death in his shadow.
This was the man who would kill her and Richard, if given the chance.
She snatched his outstretched wrist capped with his fist.
He appeared no more than a statue before her.
The night, sprinkled with a vault of stars, seemed cold and distant.
Beneath her grip of him, Kahlan could feel Nicholas tense, as if to
draw back his arm. But it was too late.
He had no chance. He was hers.
Time was hers.
The men all around, who had begun rushing in, were far too distant to
matter. They could never reach her in time to save Nicholas. Not even the
man who had brought her from the bridge, who now stood not more than a few
paces away, was close enough to matter.
Time was hers.
Nicholas was hers.
She gave no thought to what those men would do to her. Right then, it
didn't matter. Right then, nothing but her ability to do what needed doing
mattered. This man had to be eliminated.
This was the enemy.
This was the man who had invaded a land to torture, rape, and murder
innocent people in the name of the Imperial Order. This was a man who had
been mutated by magic into a monster designed to destroy them. This man was
a tool of conquest, a being of evil.
This was the man who held Richard's life in the balance.
The power within raged to be released.
All her emotions evaporated before the heat of that power. She no
longer felt fear, hate, anger, horror. The emotions behind her reasons were
now gone. In the all-consuming race of time suspended before the violent
rush of her power, she felt only a resolute determination. Her power had
become an instrument of pure reason.
All her barriers fell before it.
In an infinitesimal spark of time as she watched the beady eyes staring
at her, her power became all.
As she had done countless times before, Kahlan released her restraint
on it, and released herself into the flux of violence focused to a singular
purpose.
Where she should have felt the exquisite release of merciless force,
she felt instead a terrifying emptiness. Where there should have been the
fierce twisting of her power through this man's mind, there was ... nothing.
Kahlan's eyes went wide as she gasped.
As she felt hot pain knife through her.
As she felt the thrust of something foreign and terrible beyond
anything she could have imagined.
Hot agony lanced through her consciousness all the way into her very
soul.
It felt as if her insides were being ripped apart.
She tried to scream but couldn't.
The night went blacker still.
Kahlan heard laughter echoing through her soul.
Richard's eyes popped open. He felt suddenly, completely, horrifyingly
wide awake.
The hair at the back of his neck lifted. It felt as if all his hair
wanted to stand on end. His heart raced nearly out of control.
He shot to his feet. Cara, right beside him, caught his arm, surprised
to see him suddenly stand up. Looking as if she feared he might fall, she
frowned in concern.
"Lord Rahl, what's the matter? Are you all right?"
The room was silent. Startled faces all around stared up at him.
"Get out!" he yelled. "Get your things! Everyone out! Now!"
Richard snatched up his pack. He didn't see Kahlan, but saw her pack
and grabbed it as well. He wondered if he might still be dreaming. But he
never remembered his dreams. He wondered if the feeling might be some
lingering dread from a dream. No. It was real.
At first made confused and indecisive by Richard's sudden commands,
when the men saw him urgently picking up his gear, everyone scooped up their
things and scrambled to their feet. Men everywhere were snatching anything
they saw lying about, no matter whose it was.
"Move!" Richard yelled as he pushed hesitant men toward the door. "Go.
Move, move, move."
It felt as if something brushed against him, a sliding caress of his
flesh, something warm and wicked. Goose bumps tingled up his arms.
"Hurry!"
Men scrambled wildly up the dark stairs ahead of him. Betty, caught up
in the mood of panicked escape, shot between his legs and ran up the steps.
Cara was close behind him.
The hair at the nape of his neck prickled as if lightning was about to
strike. Richard scanned the dark, empty room.
"Where's Kahlan and Jennsen?"
"They went outside before," Cara said.
"Good. Let's go!"
Just as Richard reached the top of the stairs, a fiery blast from back
in the room knocked him sprawling. Cara fell on his legs. The stairwell lit
in a flash of yellow and orange light as the entire basement filled with
flames. Gouts of fire rolled up the stairwell.
Richard seized Cara's arm and dove with her through the open doorway.
As they burst out into the night, the building behind them erupted in a
thunderous roar of flames. Parts of the building broke apart, lifting in the
billowing blaze. Richard and Cara ducked as flaming boards fell all around
them, bouncing and flipping across the ground lit by the glow.
Finally away from the burning building, Richard made a quick appraisal
of the alley, looking to see if there were any soldiers about to set upon
them. Not seeing anyone he didn't recognize, he started the men moving down
the alley to put some distance between them and the burning building.
"We have to get away from here," Richard told Anson. "Nicholas knew we
were here. The fire will draw attention and troops. We haven't much time."
Looking around, he still didn't see Kahlan anywhere. His concern
rising, he spotted Jennsen, Tom, and Owen running up the alley toward him.
By the looks on their faces, he immediately knew that something was wrong.
Richard seized Jennsen's arm as she ran up close. "Where's Kahlan?"
Jennsen gulped air. "Richard--she, she--"
Jennsen burst into tears. Owen waved a square-sided bottle and a piece
of paper, as he, too, wept uncontrollably.
Richard looked at Tom, expecting an answer, and fast. "What's going
on?"
"Nicholas found the antidote. He offered it in trade... for the Mother
Confessor. We tried to stop her, Lord Rahl--I swear we did. She wouldn't
listen to any of us. She insisted that she was going to get the antidote and
then stop Nicholas. After you have the antidote, if she fails to stop
Nicholas and return, she wants you to come for her."
The leaping flames lit the grim faces around him.
"Once her mind is made up," Tom added, "there's no talking her out of
it. She has a way of making you do as she says."
Richard knew the truth of that. Amid the roar and crackle of the fire,
the building groaned and popped. The roof began to fall in, sending showers
of sparks skyward.
Owen urgently handed the square-sided bottle to Richard. "Lord Rahl,
she did it to get the antidote. She wanted you to have it so you could be
well. She said that comes first--before it is too late."
Richard pulled the cork on the bottle. It had the slight aroma of
cinnamon. He took the first swallow, expecting a thick, sweet, spicy taste.
It didn't taste that way at all.
He looked at Jennsen's and Owen's faces. "This is water."
Jennsen's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Water. Water with a little cinnamon in it." Richard poured it on the
ground. "It's not the antidote. She traded herself to Nicholas for
noth-ing."
Jennsen, Owen, and Tom stood in mute shock.
Richard felt a kind of detached calm. It was over. It was the end of
everything. He now had a limited amount of time to do what had to be done
... and then everything was at an end for him.
"Let me see this note," he said to Owen.
Owen handed it over. Richard had no trouble reading by the light coming
from the fire. As Cara, Tom, Jennsen, and Owen watched, he read it over
three times.
Finally, his arm lowered. Cara snatched the note away and read it for
herself.
Richard gazed up the alleyway at the burning building, trying to figure
it out. "How did Nicholas know that someone was coming for the antidote? He
said we had an hour. How did he know we were here, this close, and coming
for it, in order to write in the note that he gave us an hour?"
"Maybe he didn't," Cara said. "Maybe he wrote the note days ago. Maybe
he just wrote that to make us rush without thinking."
"Maybe." Richard gestured behind him. "But how did he know we were
here?"
"Magic?" Jennsen offered.
Richard didn't like the idea that Nicholas apparently knew so much and
was always one step ahead of them.
"How did you know that Nicholas was about to set this place ablaze?"
Cara asked him.
"I woke suddenly," Richard said. "My headache was gone and I just knew
we had to get out at once."
"So your gift worked?"
"I guess so. It does that--it works sometimes to warn me."
He wished he could somehow make it more dependable. At least this time
it had been, or they would all be dead.
Tom peered out into the night. "So, you think Nicholas is close? That
he knew where we were and set the place afire?"
"No. I think he wants us to believe he's close. He's a wizard. He could
have sent wizard's fire from a great distance. I'm no expert on magic; he
might have used some other means to set the fire from a distance."
Richard turned to Owen. "Take me to this building where you hid the
antidote, where Nicholas was when you first saw him."
Without hesitation, Owen started out. The rest of the small group
followed after him.
"Do you think she will be there?" Jennsen asked.
"There's only one way to find out."
By the time they reached the river they were out of breath. Richard was
furious to find the bridge gone, with stone blocks from it scattered on the
banks far below; the rest of it had apparently vanished beneath the dark
water. Owen and some of the other men said that there was another bridge
farther to the north, so they took off in that direction, following the road
that twisted along beside the river.
Before they reached the bridge, a knot of soldiers rushed out from a
side street with weapons raised, yelling battle cries.
The night rang with the distinctive sound of Richard's sword being
drawn. While the blade was free, its magic was not. With the heart-pounding
threat, it didn't matter. Richard had anger to spare and met the enemy with
a cry of his own.
The first man lunged. Richard's strike was so violent it cleaved the
burly man down through the leather armor over his shoulder to his opposite
hip. As Richard spun without pause to a soldier coming at him from behind,
he brought the sword around with such speed that the man was beheaded before
he had cocked his sword arm. Richard drew his elbow back, smashing the face
of a man rushing in to stab him from behind. A quick thrust took down
another man before Richard could turn to finish the man behind, who had
dropped to his knees, his hands covering his bleeding face. A moonlit flash
of Richard's sword brought measured death.
Tom slashed through the men at the same time as Cara's Agiel took
others down. Cries of surprised pain shattered the quiet of the night. All
the while, Richard swept through the enemy like a wind-borne shadow.
In mere moments, the night was again silent. Richard, Tom, and Cara had
eliminated the enemy squad before any of their men could react to the threat
efficiency, Cara snatched them out of the air and swiftly wrung their necks.
Everywhere, men stabbed, cut, and hacked at the onslaught of fierce
raptors. Some men used their torches as weapons. The night was filled with
the screams of the birds, with the flapping of wings, with the thud of
weapons striking home. Birds tumbled and fell as they were hit. More dove in
to take their place. The trees all around poured the monstrous birds down on
them. Wounded and dying birds struggling on the ground made the forest floor
a writhing sea of black feathers.
The ferocity of the attack was frightening.
And then, it was suddenly over.
A few of the birds on the ground, wings spread, still tried to get up,
their feathers making a silken rasp as they rubbed against the feathers of
dead birds beneath them. Here and there men stabbed or chopped at a bird
still alive on the ground at their feet. It wasn't long before all the
creatures finally went still. No more races came from the sky.
Dead races mounded up against Richard like snow drifted in a storm.
Men panted as they held torches aloft. They peered into the darkness
beyond the light, looking for any sign of more trouble from above. But for
the hissing of the torches, the night was silent. The branches of the trees
all around appeared to be empty.
Kahlan could see scratches and cuts on Richard's arms and hands. She
waded through the sea of dead birds to get to his pack sitting on a near by
rock. The forest floor around him was nearly knee-deep with dead races. She
had to flip a dead bird off Richard's pack. Pushing her hand down into his
pack, she blindly searched until her fingers found a folded waxed paper that
contained a salve.
Cara rushed in close to Richard when she saw him unsteady on his feet.
She grasped his arm, lending him support.
"What in the world was that all about?" Jennsen asked, panting, still
catching her breath as she pulled strands of red ringlets off her sweaty
face.
"I guess they finally decided to try to get us," Owen said.
Jennsen patted Betty's head when the goat stepped unhurt through the
corpses of races to get in closer to her friends. "One thing for sure is
that they finally found us again."
"There was an important difference this time," Richard said. "They
weren't following us. They were here, waiting for us."
Everyone stared at him.
"What do you mean?" Kahlan paused at daubing salve on his cuts.
"They've followed us before. They must have seen us."
Betty moved in closer, leaning against Kahlan's leg to stand and watch
her and Richard talking. Kahlan wasn't in the mood to be scratching the
goat's ears, so she pushed her out of the way.
Richard laid a hand on Cara's shoulder to steady himself. Kahlan
noticed how he swayed on his feet. At times he was having difficulty
standing.
"No. They haven't been following us. The skies have been empty."
Richard gestured to the dead birds all around him. "These races weren't
following us. They were waiting for us. They knew we were coming here. They
lay in wait."
That was a chilling thought--if it was true.
Kahlan straightened, holding the waxed paper in one hand; a finger of
her other hand, loaded with salve, waiting. "How could they possibly know
where we were going?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Richard said.
Nicholas glided back into his body, his mouth still opened wide in a
yawn that was not a yawn. He stretched his neck to one side and then the
other. He smiled with his delight in the game. It had been dazzling. It had
been delicious. His widening grin bared his teeth.
Nicholas staggered to his feet, wavering unsteadily for a moment. It
reminded him of the way Richard Rahl swayed on his feet, dizzy with the
effects of a poison that was inexorably doing its deadly work.
Poor Richard Rahl needed the last dose of the antidote.
Nicholas opened his mouth again in a yawn that was not a yawn, twisting
his head, eager to be away, eager to learn more. He would return soon
enough. He would watch them. Watch them as they worried, as they struggled
in vain to understand what was happening, watch them as they approached.
They would reach him in mere hours.
The fun was truly about to begin.
Nicholas wound his way across the room, stepping between the bodies
sprawled everywhere. They had all died suddenly when the races were killed.
Here and there the dead were stacked in piles atop one another, the way the
races in those dark woods had been heaped around Richard Rahl.
Such violent deaths. Those spirits had been horrified as they were
slaughtered, but there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Nicholas had controlled their souls, their fate. Now they were beyond
his control; they now belonged to the Keeper of the dead.
Nicholas ran his fingernails back through his hair, shivering with
delight as he felt the slick oils glide through his fingers and against his
palm.
He had to drag three bodies aside before he could get at the door. He
threw the heavy latch over and opened the thick door.
"Najari!"
The man stood not far away, leaning against the wall, waiting. His
muscular form straightened.
"What is it?"
Nicholas opened his arm back in graceful indication, his fingers tipped
with black nails stretching wide. "There is a mess in here that needs to be
cleaned up. Get some men and have these bodies taken away."
Najari stepped to the door and stretched his neck to peer into the
room.
"The whole crowd we brought in?"
"Yes." Nicholas snapped. "I needed them all, and some more I had the
soldiers fetch for me. I'm done with them all, now. Get rid of them."
When the races had attacked, each had been driven by the soul of one of
these ungifted people, and each of those souls had been driven by Nicholas.
It had been a stupendous achievement--the simultaneous command of so many
with such precision and coordination. When the races had been killed,
though, so, too, died the bodies back in the room with Nicholas.
He supposed that one day he really should learn how to call back such
spirits when their hosts died. It would save him from having to get new ones
each time. But people were plentiful. Besides, if he were to find a way to
call them back, then he would have to mind the people once their spirits
returned, after they had learned his use of them.
Still, it was annoying when Richard Rahl killed those Nicholas used to
help him watch.
"How much longer?" Najari asked.
Nicholas smiled, knowing what the man was curious about. "Soon. Very
soon. You must get these people out of here before they arrive. Then, keep
our men out of the way. Let them do as they will."
Najari flashed a cunning smile. "As you wish, Nicholas."
Nicholas lifted an eyebrow. "Emperor Nicholas."
Najari chuckled as he started away to get his men. "Emperor Nicholas."
"You know, Najari, I've been thinking."
Najari turned back. "About what?"
"About Jagang. We've worked so hard. What reason is there for me to bow
to him? A legion of my silent army could swoop in upon him and that would be
that. I wouldn't even need an army. He could mount his horse one day, and I
could be there in the beast, waiting to throw him and trample him to death."
Najari rubbed his stubble. "True enough."
"Of what use is Jagang, really? I could just as easily rule the
Imperial Order. In fact, I would be better suited to it."
Najari cocked his head. "Then what of the plans we've already laid?"
Nicholas shrugged. "Why change them? But why should I give the Mother
Confessor to Jagang? And why let him have the world? Perhaps I will keep her
for my own amusement... and have the world as well."
Richard pressed his back up against the clapboard wall. He had to pause
a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning. He was so cold he felt
numb. As dark as it was, he was having difficulty seeing.
But it was more than the darkness.
He knew that his sight was beginning to fail him.
At night it was worse. He had always been able to see better at night
than most other people. Now, he was no better able to see at night than
Kahlan. That wasn't a big difference, but he knew it was meaningful.
The third state of the poison had begun.
Fortunately, they were close to having the final dose.
"This is the alleyway, here," Owen whispered.
Richard looked up and down the street. He didn't see anything moving.
The city of Hawton was asleep. He wished he could be, too. He was so
exhausted and dizzy he could hardly put one foot in front of the other. He
had to take shallow breaths to keep from coughing. Coughing brought on the
worst pain. At least he wasn't coughing up blood.
Coughing now, though, could be fatal, so he swallowed, trying to stifle
the urge. If they made any noise, it might alert the soldiers.
When Owen moved into the alleyway, Richard, Kahlan, Cara, Jenn-sen,
Tom, Anson, and a handful of their men followed in single file.
There had been no lights burning in the windows facing the streets. As
the small group moved through the alley close to the walls, Richard saw no
windows. A few of the walls did have doors.
At a narrow space between buildings, Owen turned in, following the
brick path hardly wider than Richard's shoulders.
Richard seized Owen by the arm. "Is this the only way in?"
"No. See there? The walkway goes through to the street in front, and
there is another door inside that comes up on the other side of the
building."
Satisfied that they had alternative escape routes, Richard gave Owen a
nod. They took the dark stairwell down to a room at the bottom under the
building. Tom struck flint to steel a number of times until he managed to
light a candle.
Once the candle was lit, Richard gazed around at the small, empty,
windowless room. "What is this place?"
"The basement of a palace," Owen said.
Richard frowned at the man. "What are we doing here?"
Owen hesitated and glanced at Kahlan.
Kahlan saw the look. She pushed Richard down until he sat and leaned
back against the wall. A footsore Betty squeezed between them and lay down
beside Richard, pleased to have a rest. Jennsen squatted close, on the other
side of Betty. Cara closed him in from the other side.
Kahlan knelt in front of him and then sat back on her heels. "Richard,
I asked Owen to bring us here--to a place where we would be safe. We can't
all go into that building to get the antidote."
"I suppose not. That's a good idea. Owen and I will go; the rest of you
can stay here where no one will spot you."
He started to get up, but Kahlan pushed him back down. "Richard, you
have to wait here. You can't go. You're dizzy. You need to save your
strength."
Richard gazed into her green eyes, eyes that always captivated him,
always made everything else but her seem unimportant. He wished they could
be alone somewhere peaceful, like the home he had built for her back in the
mountains where he had taken her to recover after she had been hurt... when
she had lost their unborn child after being beaten nearly to death by those
brutes.
She was the most precious thing alive. She was everything. He wanted so
much for her to be safe.
"I'm strong enough," he said. "I'll be fine."
"If you start coughing in that place where the soldiers are, then
you'll be caught and never get out--much less recover the antidote. You and
Owen would both be caught. There is no telling how many soldiers are in
there. What will happen to us if you're caught? What would happen if. .."
Her voice trailed off. She hooked a stray strand of hair behind an ear.
"Look, Richard, Owen went in there before; he can go in there again."
Richard saw desperation in her eyes. She was terrified of losing him.
He hated that he was making her afraid.
"That's right, Lord Rahl," Owen assured him. "I will get the antidote
and bring it to you."
"While we're waiting, you can get some rest," Kahlan said. "Some sleep
would do you more good than anything else until they bring back the
antidote."
Richard couldn't debate how tired he was. He still didn't like the idea
of not going himself.
"Tom could go with him," Cara suggested.
Richard looked up into Cara's blue eyes. He looked up into Kahlan's
eyes. He knew he had already lost this argument.
"How far is this place?" Richard asked Owen.
"A goodly distance. Here, we are just at the fringe of the city. I
wanted to take us to a place where we would be less likely to encounter
soldiers. The antidote is at most an hour distant. I thought it best if we
were not too far into the city if we had to get back out, but we are close
enough so that you will not have long to wait for the antidote."
Richard nodded. "All right. We'll wait here for you and Tom."
Kahlan paced in the small, damp basement as the others sat against the
wall, waiting in silence. She couldn't stand the tension. It felt too much
like a deathwatch.
They were so close that it made it seem impossibly far. They had waited
so long that the small amount of time left seemed an eternity that would
never end. Kahlan told herself to calm down. Shortly, Richard would have the
antidote. He would be better, then. He would be cured of the poison, then.
But what if it didn't work? What if he had already waited so long that
he was beyond any cure? No, the man who had made the poison and the antidote
had told Owen that this last dose would cure Richard of the poison for good.
Because of the beliefs of these people, they would be certain that the
poison was reversible. They would never have used it if they believed it
would risk a life.
But what if what they believed was wrong?
Kahlan rubbed her shoulders as she paced, and admonished herself to
stop inventing problems to worry about. They had enough real problems
without letting her imagination get carried away. They would get the
antidote and then they would address the problem with Richard's gift. After
that, they had to turn their attention to larger issues of Jagang and his
army.
When Kahlan glanced over and saw that Richard had fallen sound asleep,
she decided to go outside and watch for Owen and Tom. Cara, leaning against
the wall beside Richard, guarding him while he slept, nodded when Kahlan
whispered to her, telling her where she was going. Jennsen, seeing that
Kahlan was heading for the door, quietly followed her out. Betty had fallen
asleep beside Richard, so Jennsen left her there.
The moonlit night had cooled. Kahlan thought she should be sleepy, but
she was wide awake. She followed the brick path out between the buildings
toward the alley.
"Owen will be back soon," Jennsen said. "Try not to worry. It will be
over, soon."
Kahlan glanced over in the dark. "Even after he has the antidote, we
still have his gift to worry about. Zedd is too far. We're going to have to
get to Nicci right away. She is the only one close enough that might know
what to do to help him."
"Do you think the trouble with his gift is getting worse?"
Kahlan was haunted by the pain she so often saw in his eyes. But there
was more to it.
"When he used the sword the last two times I could see that even the
sword's magic had failed him. He's in more trouble with his gift than he
will admit."
Jennsen chewed her lower lip as she watched Kahlan pace. "Tonight he
will have the antidote," she finally said in soft assurance. "Soon, we can
be on our way to Nicci."
Kahlan turned when she thought she heard a noise in the distance. It
had sounded like the crunch of a footstep. Two dark figures appeared off at
the end of the alleyway. By the way one of them towered over the other,
Kahlan was pretty sure that it was Tom and Owen. She wanted to run to meet
them, but she knew how deadly tricks could be, so she drew Jennsen back with
her around the corner of the building, into the darkest part of the shadows.
This was no time to get careless.
When the two men reached the narrow walkway and started to turn in.
Kahlan stepped out in front of them, prepared to unleash her power if
necessary.
"Mother Confessor--it's me, Tom, and Owen," Tom whispered.
Jennsen let out a breath. "Are we ever glad to see you back."
Owen looked both ways down the alley. When he turned to check, Kahlan
saw moonlight reflect off tears running down his face.
"Mother Confessor, we have trouble," Tom said.
Owen spread his hands. "Mother Confessor, I, I..."
Kahlan grabbed his shirt in both fists. "What's wrong? The antidote was
there, wasn't it? You have it, don't you?"
"No." Owen choked back his tears and pulled out a folded piece of
paper. "Instead of the bottle of antidote, I found this in its hiding
place."
Kahlan snatched it out of his hands. With trembling fingers, she
unfolded the paper. She turned as she held it close so she could read it in
the light of the moon.
/ have the antidote. I also hold by a thread the lives of the people of
Bandakar. I can end all their lives as easily as I can end the life of
Richard Rahl ./ will give over the antidote and the lives of all the people
in this empire in exchange for the Mother Confessor.
Bring the Mother Confessor to the bridge over the river one mile to the
east of where you are. In one hour, if I do not have the Mother Confessor, I
will pour the antidote in the river and then I will see to it that all the
people of this city die.
Signed, Emperor Nicholas
Kahlan, her heart racing out of control, started east.
Tom grabbed her arm and held her back. "Mother Confessor, I know what
it says."
Kahlan's hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Then you know why I have no
choice."
Jennsen put herself in front of Kahlan to stop her from starting out
once again. "What does the letter say?"
"Nicholas wants me in exchange for the antidote."
Jennsen put her hands against Kahlan's shoulders to stop her. "What?"
"That's what the letter says. Nicholas wants me in exchange for the
lives of everyone else in this empire and the antidote to save Richard's
life."
"The lives of everyone else ... but how could he carry out such a
threat?"
"Nicholas is a wizard. There are any number of deadly things available
to such a man. If nothing else, he could use wizard's fire and incinerate
the entire city."
"But his magic won't harm the people here--they're pristinely
un-gifted, the same as me."
"If he uses wizard's fire to set a building ablaze, like we did to
those soldiers sleeping back in Owen's town, it won't matter to the people
inside how the fire started. Once the buildings catch fire, then it's just
regular fire--fire that will kill anyone. If not that, Nicholas has soldiers
here. He could immediately start executing people. He could have thousands
beheaded in hardly any time at all. I can't even imagine what else he could
do, but he put this letter where the antidote was hidden, so I know he's not
bluffing."
Kahlan stepped around Jennsen and started out again. She couldn't make
herself stop trembling. She tried to slow her racing heart, but that didn't
work, either. Richard had to have the antidote. That was what mattered. She
focused her attention ahead as she marched swiftly up the dark street.
Tom paced along beside her, opposite Jennsen. "Mother Confessor, wait.
We have to think this out."
"I already have."
"We can take a force of men to the meeting place--take the antidote by
force."
Kahlan kept going. "From a wizard? I don't think so. Besides, if
Nicholas were to see such a force coming he would probably pour the antidote
in the river. Then what? We have to do as he demands. We have to get our
hands on the antidote, get it safely away from them."
"What makes you think that after Nicholas has you he won't then pour it
in the river?" Tom asked.
"We'll have to make the exchange in a way that best insures we get the
antidote. We aren't going to rely on his goodwill and honesty. Owen and
Jennsen are pristinely ungifted. They won't be harmed by his magic. They can
help make sure we get the antidote in the exchange."
Jennsen pulled her hair away from her face as she leaned close.
"Kahlan, you can't do this. You can't. Please, Richard will go crazy-- we
all will. Please, for his sake, don't do this."
"At least he will be alive to go crazy."
Tears streamed down Jennsen's face. "But this is suicide!"
Kahlan watched the buildings, the streets, making sure there were no
troops to hem them in. "Let's hope Nicholas thinks so, too." *
"Mother Confessor," Owen pleaded, "you can't do this. This is what Lord
Rahl has shown us is wrong. You can't bargain with a man like Nicholas. You
can't try to appease evil."
"I have no intention of appeasing Nicholas."
Jennsen wiped tears from her cheek. "What do you mean?"
Kahlan stiffened her resolve. "What is our best chance of getting rid
of the Imperial Order in this city--and all of Bandakar? Eliminating
Nicholas. How better to get close to him than to make him think he has won?"
Jennsen blinked in surprise. "You intend to touch him with your power.
That's what you're thinking, isn't it? You think you will have a chance to
touch him with your Confessor power."
"If I get him in my sight, he's dead."
"Richard would never agree to this," Jennsen said.
"I'm not asking him. This is my decision."
Tom stepped in front of her, blocking the way. "Mother Confessor, I'm
sworn to protect the Lord Rahl, and I understand risking your life to
protect him--but this is different. You may be acting to try to save his
life, but at what cost? We would lose too much. You can't do this."
Owen moved around in front of her, too. "I agree. Lord Rahl will be
more than crazy if you exchange yourself for the antidote."
Jennsen nodded her agreement. "He will kill us all. He will take off
our heads for allowing you to do this."
Kahlan smiled at their tense expressions. She put a hand to the side of
Jennsen's face.
"Remember back just after we'd met you, and I told you that there were
times when there was no choice but to act?"
Jennsen nodded, her tears returning.
"This is one of those times. Richard is getting sicker by the day. He's
dying. If he doesn't get the antidote, he has no chance and will soon be
dead. That's the truth of the way things are.
"How can we let this chance slip away from us? There are no more
opportunities after this. Our chances to save him will forever be lost. It
will be the end. I don't want to live without him. I don't want the rest of
our people to live without him.
"If I do this, then Richard will live. If Richard lives, then there
will still be a chance for me, too. I can touch Nicholas with my power, or
Richard and the rest of you can think of something to do to save me.
"But if Richard dies, then our chances end."
"But, Mother Confessor," Jennsen sobbed, "if you do this, then we'll
lose you...."
Kahlan looked to each face, her anger rising. "If any of you have a
better idea, then put words to it. Otherwise, you are risking me losing the
only chance left."
586
NAKED EMPIRE
No one had anything to say. Kahlan was the only one with a realistic
plan of action. The rest of them had only wishes. Wishing would not save
Richard.
Kahlan started out once again, hurrying her pace to get there in time.
Kahlan paused in the quiet darkness not far from the bridge. She could
just make out what appeared to be a burly man standing on the other side. He
was all alone. She couldn't see his face, or tell what he looked like. She
scanned the far bank of the river, along with the trees and buildings she
could make out in the moonlight, looking for soldiers, or anyone else.
Jennsen clutched her arm. "Kahlan... please." Her voice was choked with
tears.
Kahlan felt oddly calm. There were no options for her to weigh, so she
suffered no gnawing indecision; there was only one choice. Richard lived, or
he died. It was as simple as that. The choice was clear.
Her mind was made up, and with that came clarity and determination. She
could now focus on what she was to do.
The river through the city was larger than Kahlan had expected. The
steep banks to each side, in this area, anyway, were a few dozen feet high
and lined with stone blocks. The bridge itself, wide enough for wagons to
pass each other, had two arches to make the span and side rails with simple
stone caps. The waters below were dark and swift. It was not a river she
would want to have to try to swim.
Kahlan approached as far as the foot of the bridge and stopped. The man
on the other side watched her.
"Do you have the antidote?" she called over to him.
He lifted what looked like a little bottle high above his head. He
lowered the arm and pointed to the bridge. He wanted her to come across.
"Mother Confessor," Owen pleaded, "won't you reconsider?"
She gazed into his wet eyes. "Reconsider what? If I will have Richard
live rather than let him succumb to the poison? If I will try to kill
Nicholas in order to make it possible to defeat them and for your people to
have a better chance to free themselves? How would I ever live with myself
if Richard died without the antidote and I knew there was something I could
have done that would have saved him and also have given me a chance to get
close enough to Nicholas to eliminate him?
"I couldn't live with myself if I failed to do this.
"We are fighting this war to stop people like this, people who bring
death upon us, people who want us dead because they cannot stand that we
live our lives as we wish, that we are successful and happy. These people
hate life; they worship death. They demand that we do the same and join them
in their misery.
"As Mother Confessor, I decreed vengeance without mercy against the
Imperial Order. Changing from our course is suicide. I will not reconsider."
"What would you have us tell Lord Rahl?" Tom asked.
She smiled. "That I love him, but he knows that."
Kahlan unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to Jennsen. "Owen, come
with me."
Kahlan started out, but Jennsen threw her arms around her and hugged
her fiercely. "Don't worry," she whispered. "We'll get the antidote to
Richard, and then we'll come back for you."
Kahlan hugged Jennsen briefly, whispered her thanks, and then started
onto the bridge. Owen walked at her side, saying nothing.
The man on the far side watched, but stayed where he was.
In the center of the bridge, Kahlan stopped. "Bring the bottle," she
called across.
"Come over here and you can have it."
"If you want me, you will come to the center of the bridge and give the
bottle to this man to take back, as Nicholas offered."
The man stood for a time, as if considering. He looked like a soldier.
He didn't match the description of Nicholas that Owen had given her.
Finally, he started onto the arch of the bridge. Owen whispered that it
looked like the commander he had seen with Nicholas. Kahlan waited, watching
the man walk through the moonlight. He wore a knife at one side and a sword
at his other hip.
When he had almost reached her, he came to a halt and waited.
Kahlan held her hand out. "The note said we were to trade. Me for what
Nicholas has."
The man, his crooked nose flattened to the side, smiled. "So we were."
"I am the Mother Confessor. Either give me the bottle or you die here,
now."
He pulled the square-sided bottle from his pocket and placed it in her
hand. Kahlan saw that it was full of clear liquid. She pulled the cork and
smelled it. It had the slight aroma of cinnamon, as had the other bottles of
the antidote.
"He goes back with this," Kahlan said to the grim-looking man as she
handed Owen the bottle.
"And you come with me," the man said as he grabbed her wrist. "Or we
all die on this bridge. He may go, as agreed, but if you try to run you will
die."
Kahlan glanced to Owen. "Go," she growled.
Owen looked over at the man with black hair, then back to her. He
looked like he had a lot to say, but he nodded and then ran back over the
bridge to where Tom and Jennsen stood waiting, watching.
When Owen reached the other two, the man said, "Let's go, unless you'd
like to die here."
Kahlan yanked her arm back. When he turned and started out, she
followed behind him as they crossed the rest of the way over the bridge. She
scanned the shadows among the trees on the far side of the river, the
thousand hiding places among buildings beyond, the streets in the distance.
She didn't see anyone, but that didn't really make her feel any better.
Nicholas was there, somewhere, hiding in the darkness, waiting to have
her.
Suddenly, the night lit up from behind. Kahlan spun and saw the bridge
enveloped in a boiling ball of flame. The fire turned black as it billowed
up. Stones sailed into the air above the inferno. As the luminous cloud
rose, she could see the bridge beneath the roaring fireball crumpling. The
arches caved in on themselves and the entire structure began the long drop
into the river.
With icy dread, Kahlan wondered if there were any more bridges across
the river. How would she get back to Richard if she succeeded? How was help
going to get to her if she didn't?
On the far side, Kahlan could see Tom, Jennsen, and Owen running back
up the road toward where Richard slept. They were not about to waste time
watching a bridge being destroyed. At the thought of Richard, Kahlan almost
let out a sob.
The man unexpectedly shoved her. "Move."
She glared at him, at his self-satisfied smile, at the smug confidence
she saw in his eyes.
As she walked ahead of this man and he occasionally shoved her,
Kahlan's temper was on a low boil. She had the urge to use her power and
take out the despicable brute, but she had to concentrate on the task at
hand: Nicholas.
Walking up the street leading away from the river, she was just able to
make out soldiers hanging back in the shadows on the dark side streets,
blocking every escape route. It didn't matter. At the moment, she wasn't
interested in escape, but in her objective. The man behind her. as
arrogantly as he was behaving, was also wary and treated her with cautious
contempt.
The farther she walked into the city on the far side of the river, the
closer the clusters of small buildings were packed together. Side streets of
narrow twisting warrens ran off among the ramshackle structures. What trees
there were grew crowded in close to the street. Their branches hung out over
her like arms raised to snatch her in their claws. Kahlan tried not to think
about how deep she was getting into enemy territory, and how many men were
surrounding her.
The last time she had been surrounded and trapped by such savage men
she had been beaten and bad come perilously close to dying. Her unborn child
had died. Her child. Richard's child.
She had also lost a kind of innocence that day, a simplistic sense of
her invincibility. In its place had come the understanding of how frail life
was, how frail her own life was, and how easily it could be lost. She knew
how much it had hurt Richard to fear he might lose her. She remembered the
terrible agony in his eyes every time he had looked at her. It was
completely different from the pain she saw in his eyes from his gift. It had
been a helpless suffering for her. She hated the thought of that pain
returning to haunt him.
From the shadows to the right side, a man stepped out from behind a
building. He wore black robes, covered in layers of what looked like strips
of cloth, almost as if he were covered in black feathers. They lifted in the
breeze created by his stride, lending him an unsettling, floating fluidity
as he moved.
His hair was slicked back with oils that glistened in the moonlight.
Close-set, small black eyes rimmed in red peered out at her from an
altogether unwholesome face. He held his wrists to his chest, as if he were
holding back claws tipped with black fingernails.
Kahlan needed no introduction to know that this was Nicholas the Slide.
She had taken confessions from men who appeared to be no more than polite
young men, working fathers, or kindly grandfathers but in truth were men who
had carried out acts of ruthless cruelty. To look at them behind their bench
where they made shoes, or behind a counter where they sold bread, or in a
field tending their animals it would be difficult to believe them capable of
their vile crimes. But looking at Nicholas, Kahlan saw such utter corruption
that it tainted everything about the man, right down to the indecent squint
of his eyes.
"The prize of prizes," Nicholas hissed. He reached out, making a fist.
"And I have her."
Kahlan hardly heard him. She was already lost to the commitment of
wielding her power. This was the man who held the lives of innocent people
hostage. This was the man who brought suffering and death in his shadow.
This was the man who would kill her and Richard, if given the chance.
She snatched his outstretched wrist capped with his fist.
He appeared no more than a statue before her.
The night, sprinkled with a vault of stars, seemed cold and distant.
Beneath her grip of him, Kahlan could feel Nicholas tense, as if to
draw back his arm. But it was too late.
He had no chance. He was hers.
Time was hers.
The men all around, who had begun rushing in, were far too distant to
matter. They could never reach her in time to save Nicholas. Not even the
man who had brought her from the bridge, who now stood not more than a few
paces away, was close enough to matter.
Time was hers.
Nicholas was hers.
She gave no thought to what those men would do to her. Right then, it
didn't matter. Right then, nothing but her ability to do what needed doing
mattered. This man had to be eliminated.
This was the enemy.
This was the man who had invaded a land to torture, rape, and murder
innocent people in the name of the Imperial Order. This was a man who had
been mutated by magic into a monster designed to destroy them. This man was
a tool of conquest, a being of evil.
This was the man who held Richard's life in the balance.
The power within raged to be released.
All her emotions evaporated before the heat of that power. She no
longer felt fear, hate, anger, horror. The emotions behind her reasons were
now gone. In the all-consuming race of time suspended before the violent
rush of her power, she felt only a resolute determination. Her power had
become an instrument of pure reason.
All her barriers fell before it.
In an infinitesimal spark of time as she watched the beady eyes staring
at her, her power became all.
As she had done countless times before, Kahlan released her restraint
on it, and released herself into the flux of violence focused to a singular
purpose.
Where she should have felt the exquisite release of merciless force,
she felt instead a terrifying emptiness. Where there should have been the
fierce twisting of her power through this man's mind, there was ... nothing.
Kahlan's eyes went wide as she gasped.
As she felt hot pain knife through her.
As she felt the thrust of something foreign and terrible beyond
anything she could have imagined.
Hot agony lanced through her consciousness all the way into her very
soul.
It felt as if her insides were being ripped apart.
She tried to scream but couldn't.
The night went blacker still.
Kahlan heard laughter echoing through her soul.
Richard's eyes popped open. He felt suddenly, completely, horrifyingly
wide awake.
The hair at the back of his neck lifted. It felt as if all his hair
wanted to stand on end. His heart raced nearly out of control.
He shot to his feet. Cara, right beside him, caught his arm, surprised
to see him suddenly stand up. Looking as if she feared he might fall, she
frowned in concern.
"Lord Rahl, what's the matter? Are you all right?"
The room was silent. Startled faces all around stared up at him.
"Get out!" he yelled. "Get your things! Everyone out! Now!"
Richard snatched up his pack. He didn't see Kahlan, but saw her pack
and grabbed it as well. He wondered if he might still be dreaming. But he
never remembered his dreams. He wondered if the feeling might be some
lingering dread from a dream. No. It was real.
At first made confused and indecisive by Richard's sudden commands,
when the men saw him urgently picking up his gear, everyone scooped up their
things and scrambled to their feet. Men everywhere were snatching anything
they saw lying about, no matter whose it was.
"Move!" Richard yelled as he pushed hesitant men toward the door. "Go.
Move, move, move."
It felt as if something brushed against him, a sliding caress of his
flesh, something warm and wicked. Goose bumps tingled up his arms.
"Hurry!"
Men scrambled wildly up the dark stairs ahead of him. Betty, caught up
in the mood of panicked escape, shot between his legs and ran up the steps.
Cara was close behind him.
The hair at the nape of his neck prickled as if lightning was about to
strike. Richard scanned the dark, empty room.
"Where's Kahlan and Jennsen?"
"They went outside before," Cara said.
"Good. Let's go!"
Just as Richard reached the top of the stairs, a fiery blast from back
in the room knocked him sprawling. Cara fell on his legs. The stairwell lit
in a flash of yellow and orange light as the entire basement filled with
flames. Gouts of fire rolled up the stairwell.
Richard seized Cara's arm and dove with her through the open doorway.
As they burst out into the night, the building behind them erupted in a
thunderous roar of flames. Parts of the building broke apart, lifting in the
billowing blaze. Richard and Cara ducked as flaming boards fell all around
them, bouncing and flipping across the ground lit by the glow.
Finally away from the burning building, Richard made a quick appraisal
of the alley, looking to see if there were any soldiers about to set upon
them. Not seeing anyone he didn't recognize, he started the men moving down
the alley to put some distance between them and the burning building.
"We have to get away from here," Richard told Anson. "Nicholas knew we
were here. The fire will draw attention and troops. We haven't much time."
Looking around, he still didn't see Kahlan anywhere. His concern
rising, he spotted Jennsen, Tom, and Owen running up the alley toward him.
By the looks on their faces, he immediately knew that something was wrong.
Richard seized Jennsen's arm as she ran up close. "Where's Kahlan?"
Jennsen gulped air. "Richard--she, she--"
Jennsen burst into tears. Owen waved a square-sided bottle and a piece
of paper, as he, too, wept uncontrollably.
Richard looked at Tom, expecting an answer, and fast. "What's going
on?"
"Nicholas found the antidote. He offered it in trade... for the Mother
Confessor. We tried to stop her, Lord Rahl--I swear we did. She wouldn't
listen to any of us. She insisted that she was going to get the antidote and
then stop Nicholas. After you have the antidote, if she fails to stop
Nicholas and return, she wants you to come for her."
The leaping flames lit the grim faces around him.
"Once her mind is made up," Tom added, "there's no talking her out of
it. She has a way of making you do as she says."
Richard knew the truth of that. Amid the roar and crackle of the fire,
the building groaned and popped. The roof began to fall in, sending showers
of sparks skyward.
Owen urgently handed the square-sided bottle to Richard. "Lord Rahl,
she did it to get the antidote. She wanted you to have it so you could be
well. She said that comes first--before it is too late."
Richard pulled the cork on the bottle. It had the slight aroma of
cinnamon. He took the first swallow, expecting a thick, sweet, spicy taste.
It didn't taste that way at all.
He looked at Jennsen's and Owen's faces. "This is water."
Jennsen's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Water. Water with a little cinnamon in it." Richard poured it on the
ground. "It's not the antidote. She traded herself to Nicholas for
noth-ing."
Jennsen, Owen, and Tom stood in mute shock.
Richard felt a kind of detached calm. It was over. It was the end of
everything. He now had a limited amount of time to do what had to be done
... and then everything was at an end for him.
"Let me see this note," he said to Owen.
Owen handed it over. Richard had no trouble reading by the light coming
from the fire. As Cara, Tom, Jennsen, and Owen watched, he read it over
three times.
Finally, his arm lowered. Cara snatched the note away and read it for
herself.
Richard gazed up the alleyway at the burning building, trying to figure
it out. "How did Nicholas know that someone was coming for the antidote? He
said we had an hour. How did he know we were here, this close, and coming
for it, in order to write in the note that he gave us an hour?"
"Maybe he didn't," Cara said. "Maybe he wrote the note days ago. Maybe
he just wrote that to make us rush without thinking."
"Maybe." Richard gestured behind him. "But how did he know we were
here?"
"Magic?" Jennsen offered.
Richard didn't like the idea that Nicholas apparently knew so much and
was always one step ahead of them.
"How did you know that Nicholas was about to set this place ablaze?"
Cara asked him.
"I woke suddenly," Richard said. "My headache was gone and I just knew
we had to get out at once."
"So your gift worked?"
"I guess so. It does that--it works sometimes to warn me."
He wished he could somehow make it more dependable. At least this time
it had been, or they would all be dead.
Tom peered out into the night. "So, you think Nicholas is close? That
he knew where we were and set the place afire?"
"No. I think he wants us to believe he's close. He's a wizard. He could
have sent wizard's fire from a great distance. I'm no expert on magic; he
might have used some other means to set the fire from a distance."
Richard turned to Owen. "Take me to this building where you hid the
antidote, where Nicholas was when you first saw him."
Without hesitation, Owen started out. The rest of the small group
followed after him.
"Do you think she will be there?" Jennsen asked.
"There's only one way to find out."
By the time they reached the river they were out of breath. Richard was
furious to find the bridge gone, with stone blocks from it scattered on the
banks far below; the rest of it had apparently vanished beneath the dark
water. Owen and some of the other men said that there was another bridge
farther to the north, so they took off in that direction, following the road
that twisted along beside the river.
Before they reached the bridge, a knot of soldiers rushed out from a
side street with weapons raised, yelling battle cries.
The night rang with the distinctive sound of Richard's sword being
drawn. While the blade was free, its magic was not. With the heart-pounding
threat, it didn't matter. Richard had anger to spare and met the enemy with
a cry of his own.
The first man lunged. Richard's strike was so violent it cleaved the
burly man down through the leather armor over his shoulder to his opposite
hip. As Richard spun without pause to a soldier coming at him from behind,
he brought the sword around with such speed that the man was beheaded before
he had cocked his sword arm. Richard drew his elbow back, smashing the face
of a man rushing in to stab him from behind. A quick thrust took down
another man before Richard could turn to finish the man behind, who had
dropped to his knees, his hands covering his bleeding face. A moonlit flash
of Richard's sword brought measured death.
Tom slashed through the men at the same time as Cara's Agiel took
others down. Cries of surprised pain shattered the quiet of the night. All
the while, Richard swept through the enemy like a wind-borne shadow.
In mere moments, the night was again silent. Richard, Tom, and Cara had
eliminated the enemy squad before any of their men could react to the threat